The Crux of Despair
by MadameProngs10
Summary: AU James became king at a young age, in title only, after his father passed away.  In her efforts to give him a normal childhood, Dorea sheltered James.  Now he's off to Hogwarts, but can he ever just be normal?
1. Prologue

**THE CRUX OF DESPAIR**

**Chapter 1**

**by MadameProngs10**

**Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, etc. belong to JKR.**

* * *

"Mum!" An eleven-year-old James Potter yelled, clutching a letter in one hand as he ran through the palace's courtyard. Servants bowed and smiled warmly at the young king as he passed them. James, very much used to this behavior, hardly noticed.

"Mu-um!" he called again, finally spotting his mother tending to her favorite flowers. Grinning widely, he waved the letter above his head. "It's my Hogwarts letter! You're still letting me go, right? When can we get my supplies?"

Dorea stood as her son approached, enveloping him in a hug and kissing his forehead. It was nice to see her son happy and acting his age for once. When James' father, King Charlus, became ill and passed away three years ago, Dorea had been worried that part of James had died with him. Her son, who had for the most part been a carefree and happy child, became depressed and cryptic. He didn't understand why his father had to die so early; he spent most of the first few months in denial, scrounging the library for a spell that would bring back the dead. But of course that was hopeless.

Then, on top of everything else, the title of king was thrust upon James. His mother - along with his mother's older brother, David Longbottom - were in charge of all the king's responsibilities and duties until he completed his education, but the title still had an effect on the young boy. Knowing that he would become King in full after graduation, James was tutored in everything from self-defense to foreign languages for several hours every day - even during the summer.

James was sheltered by his mother and was rarely allowed to leave the palace grounds. When he did, he was surrounded by guards and disguised. Dorea did want the best for her son, but she was overprotective and went to extreme measures to keep him out of the public eye. Very few people outside of the palace knew what James looked like, and those who did were sworn to secrecy. James didn't even have any friends his own age.

She'd had every intention of hiring more tutors for her son when he reached eleven and simply allowing him to learn magic at home, but David had insisted that James deserved to have a childhood. It had taken awhile, but eventually Dorea came to agree with her brother. As much as she wanted to keep James home with her, he needed the opportunity to spread his wings. He needed to make friends, develop socially, and have fun... he needed to be a _kid_.

Dorea had been worried that James wouldn't want to be sent away; after all, he'd been kept exclusively at the palace for eleven years now. But when she told James he would be going to Hogwarts, a wide grin had spread across his face. Suddenly her son started acting happier and he talked about Hogwarts constantly, counting down the days until school would start. Dorea had then felt guilty for sheltering her son so much and preventing him from interacting with other children. She knew there was no way she could change her mind about allowing James to attend Hogwarts now, but James still wouldn't have a normal childhood if any of the students knew they were attending school with the king.

So James would attend Hogwarts under one condition: no one could know who he was.

James was a common enough first name, but he'd go by the last name 'Potter' instead of 'Gryffindor,' the last name of the royal family. The Headmaster and James' Head of House would be the only staff members to know of James' identity and James would not speak of his title to anyone. Dorea feared the measures were not enough, but it was all they could do.

But as she pulled away from her son, accepting the letter he extended toward her, she knew she'd made the right decision. "Yes, James," Dorea smiled, scanning the letter. "You're still going to Hogwarts. However, I thought we could send Caroline to Diagon Alley to get your supplies-"

"What? No! I can't even get my own supplies? That's not fair!"

"-because we can't afford anyone to realize who you are before you even _enter_ Hogwarts, James. We must deal with this very delicately. Maybe next year we'll have a better handle on this. I'm sorry."

James glowered, but was silent for several seconds. For a moment, Dorea thought he was actually going to let the subject drop easily. "But what about when I have to get on the train, Mum? I'll have to go out in public then. It won't be any different. Besides, no one is going to know it's me."

Dorea sighed. Her son had a point. "We will discover how to work around all this soon enough, James, but for now I think it is best for Caroline to get your things. You mostly need books and I've arranged for Mr. Ollivander to come by here personally to let you pick out your wand. You can get your supplies next year, I promise. You aren't allowed to take a broom until next year anyway, and we both know _that _is the only reason you even want to go to Diagon Alley."

That was only partly true. Flying had been James' biggest passion for as long as he could remember; the little free time he got was spent outside on his broom. But that wasn't the _only _reason he wished to go to Diagon Alley.

"I'm _never _allowed to leave the palace grounds. I can count on two hands the number of times I've been outside of those" - he gestured to the fancy, gold gates- "gates. I hate it here!"

"I know, James, I know," Dorea sighed, looking at the ground. She hated that James' childhood couldn't be as simple and carefree as other kids', but there was nothing else she could do about it. He was King - even if strictly in title only - and that came with just as many disadvantages as benefits. Soon enough he would be going to Hogwarts, though, and they would figure out how to make his life as normal as possible. "You're going to Hogwarts in September. We'll figure the rest out as we go along."

James ripped the letter out of his mother's hands, then shoved it into the pocket of his silk robes. "We better," he muttered, whipping around and briskly walking away. He hated that he couldn't do anything just because he was the king of the wizarding world. And he was only eleven - it's not like the title _meant _anything yet. He couldn't even order the guards to unlock the gates so he could go to Diagon Alley and pick out his own school supplies, like all the other Hogwarts students were surely doing.

He hated his life.

If his father was alive, _he _wouldn't practically keep him as a prisoner in his own home. Maybe James would actually have friends instead of being surrounded by grouchy tutors and servants all the time. God, he still missed his dad. He was dying to get away from this palace for awhile and all the depressing memories it held.

Finally, he would be going somewhere without his overbearing mother or monotonous tutors. Somewhere where no one would treat him like glass because they wouldn't know who he was. Somewhere he could make _friends_.

September couldn't come sooner.


	2. Hogwarts Express, Part 1

**Chapter Two:**

* * *

"Yes, _Mother_, I know," James rolled his eyes as Greg, one of the butlers, lifted James' heavy trunk and carried it outside, to be placed in the Ministry car that would be used to transport James to King's Cross. "Be careful about what I say, don't tell anyone who I am, stay out of trouble, study, write you fifty times a week..."

Queen Mother Dorea laughed, even as worry lines could plainly be seen on her face. She knew she was making the right decision by sending James off to Hogwarts, but that didn't mean the move was an easy one. "Yes, James, but once per week will do just fine," she smiled.

Dorea's eyes grew misty then and James immediately noticed. Scoffing, he pretended to be annoyed. "Mum, I'll be _fine_," he stressed for what was at least the third time that morning. He was a little scared by the idea of leaving, too, but mostly excited.

"I know," Dorea sighed. She wiped her eyes before picking up a black bag full of Galleons and extending it toward her son. "That should be more than enough until Christmas, at least," she informed James, doing her best to ignore her nerves and get James ready to leave. Something told her he wouldn't be happy if he had to miss the train in his first year. "Caroline packed your lunch for the train and now you have money if you want to buy anything else."

"Cool," James grinned, accepting the bag from her. "Do you think they'll have Chocolate Frogs on the train? I still need a few more cards until - "

"I'm sure they'll have Chocolate Frogs," Dorea shook her head, amazed by how an eleven-year-old could get off subject so easily. "Now" - She looked up at the clock, her stomach twisting as she realized what time it was. Letting her baby leave was anything but easy. - "you'd best get going so you don't miss the train. Greg and Ivan are outside waiting for you. Remember - "

"I know, I know. I won't tell anyone and I'll remember that my last name is supposed to be Potter. Really, Mum, do you think _I _want anyone to know anymore than you do?" James asked as he picked up his owl cage. Poseidon hooted in protest, but James ignored the grumpy owl.

"I'm just making sure. This is important."

"I know. You can trust me."

James' words seemed to echo around the room as both members of the royal family stood there silently, knowing what was coming next but not knowing how to initiate it. James couldn't believe he was _actually leaving _and Dorea watched her son, aching to keep him home where she could protect him - but knowing she had to let him go. Finally, feeling very bittersweet about the situation, Dorea wrapped her arms around James and kissed his cheek. She wouldn't be seeing him off at the train station, as people would surely recognize her, and - in effect - James.

James let his mother hug him and dropped his owl cage to the floor once more so he could give her a quick hug in return. Poseidon wasn't happy. As the owl let out a loud hoot in protest, James jumped back, grinning.

"Sorry, Poseidon," James laughed, picking the cage back up and smiling at his mum. "Well... bye. Love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Dorea told James softly, watching as he slowly disappeared from the room. For once, James didn't protest about the name.

* * *

"Is this it?" James asked Ivan as the black Ministry car swerved into a parking lot.

"Yes, Your Majesty, this is King's Cross," Ivan replied distractedly, in a tone which suggested he was quickly becoming tired of being questioned by the eleven-year-old king, as he navigated through the aisles, searching for a place to park. Locating a parking space near the front, Ivan pulled in and shut off the car.

Two other Ministry cars pulled up on either side of them and James rolled his eyes as he realized all the cars were full of guards. "Of course," he muttered to himself. "Send a team of guards with me. _That _won't make anything obvious, Mother."

"Did you say something, Your Majesty?" Greg - the butler who had been sitting in front next to Ivan - asked as he opened James' door.

"No, nothing," James sighed, still annoyed as he glanced around at all the other Ministry cars that had accompanied them. He leaned back in the car to pick up Poseidon's cage and Greg almost immediately offered to take the cage from him.

"I'm fine," James assured the butler quickly, climbing out of the car and walking to the trunk of the car. Ivan had already popped the trunk opened and removed James' belongings "We have to act _normal_, remember? None of you are... coming with me, are you?"

"No, Your Ma-" James glared, as if to remind the butler that addressing him as "Your Majesty" was _not _normal behavior, and Greg hesitated before finally continuing, "... James. The guards just came to make sure you arrived safely. They were going to wait here while I help you carry your things to the train, but if you'd rather-"

"_Yes_, I'd rather take my things by myself. Thanks, Greg, but I doubt most students have butlers carrying their luggage on the train for them."

"But how will you- ?"

"I'll manage," James answered shortly, bending down and attempting to lift his trunk. Suddenly he regretted bringing so many of his belongings, but there was little he could do about it now. Placing Poseidon's cage on the ground, he lifted the trunk much easier... but then couldn't manage to grab his owl.

James glowered as he looked at his belongings, then between Platforms 9 and 10. There was no way he could carry all of this by himself.

"Perhaps, Your Ma-_James_," Greg suggested, instantly correcting himself at James' look, "you can carry your owl on the train and I will follow a few minutes behind with your trunk. No one will know I'm with you and I can use magic to lift your trunk. It would be much easier."

"I..." James hesitated, once again looking from his luggage to the barrier - and then to the clock. The train was leaving soon; if he didn't figure something out soon, he'd miss the Hogwarts Express. "Fine."

Without another word, James once again lifted Poseidon's cage and the lunch Caroline had picked him, then rushed in the direction of the barrier. His mother had already told him how to reach Platform 9¾ and he was eager to try it out.

Avoiding the crowds of people bidding their farewells - mostly likely Hogwarts students and their families - James tried not to think about how things would be different if his father was alive. He still wouldn't exactly be considered normal - he would be the prince, after all - but he wouldn't be _king_. It wouldn't be quite as big of a deal. Maybe his parents would be here wishing him off on his first year, instead of Greg.

This wasn't the time to think about his father. James forced himself to think of other things - like the fact that here soon he would get to talk to kids his own age instead of people like his mother, Ivan, Caroline, and Greg.

* * *

James gazed in awe at the sight of the bright, red Hogwarts Express and all the students milling about. Some were even already wearing their Hogwarts uniforms. Grinning to himself - not the least bit threatened by the fact that he didn't know any of the students his age - James boarded the train and roamed the aisles, absently searching for a compartment to sit in. Most of the compartments he passed were filled with older students so James kept going until he finally located an empty compartment.

Or at least he thought it was empty.

After entering the compartment, James noticed a boy who looked to be around his age, sulking in a corner. His elegant, black hair fell in his face and his arms were crossed; he was completely oblivious to the fact that someone else had entered the compartment.

Rather than turning around and leaving, James grinned. Maybe he could be friends with this guy - if he was in his first year, too, as he looked to be - then they'd have classes together. Maybe they'd even both be in Gryffindor. James placed the owl cage on one of the high shelves and threw his lunchbox on a seat.

"James Potter," he announced confidently, extending his hand as he flopped down next to the other boy and smiled in his direction, sure that he'd look up soon.

Sure enough, the other boy's eyes peaked open. To James' disappointment, however, he hadn't jumped at the sudden noise; he seemed completely at ease. He offered James what could be interpreted as a "too-cool-for-you" nod as he unfolded his arms. But rather than accepting James' handshake, he glanced at James' hand and raised one eyebrow, then put his hands behind his head as if making himself comfortable.

"Sirius Black," he replied lazily. Seeing that James still had his hand outstretched, he snorted. "What are you doing, running for office?"

James dropped his hand, his grin faltering a little as he wondered what he did wrong. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you," he tried again, feeling a little more confident. He'd been over introductions with his etiquette instructor plenty of times.

Sirius snickered, confusing James, but to his credit didn't comment.

Frowning, James looked at his lap. This Sirius fellow was odd.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, here it is! I planned to get it up earlier, but my internet decided today would be the _perfect _day to stop working for six hours. Bleck. This was originally going to be way longer, but I wanted to get it up for you guys. Thanks to those of you who reviewed!


	3. Hogwarts Express, Part 2

**Chapter Three**

"So…" Sirius spoke up after the two of them had sat in silence for several minutes, which mostly consisted of James staring out the window in thought and Sirius nonchalantly twiddling with his wand.

James was startled to hear Sirius speak up; he thought the other boy was going to ignore him. "Yes?" he asked cautiously, tearing his eyes away from the window and meeting Sirius' gaze.

"What house are you hoping to go into?" Sirius asked, his expression turning a bit grim at the question. This was obviously something that had been on his mind for quite awhile.

James, however, broke into a grin at Sirius' question. He knew exactly where _he _would go; there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he'd be a Gryffindor like his father. Maybe this would be his chance to redeem himself to Sirius; he still didn't understand what he had done wrong while introducing himself.

"I'll be a Gryffindor," James informed Sirius proudly, lifting his chin. Like his father, King Charlus. But Sirius couldn't know that. "Perhaps we'll be in the same house?"

"Not likely," Sirius' attention shifted to his feet; he suddenly looked embarrassed. "Everyone in my family has been in Slytherin."

At this revelation, James began to put the pieces together. He'd thought the last name Black had sounded familiar earlier, but hadn't been able to place it. But all Slytherins? Now James knew exactly which family Sirius was from - not that he had ever met any of Sirius' relatives.

The Blacks had been high-ranking nobles and members of his father's court years ago, until King Charlus had heard about Lord Orion Black's involvement with the Dark Arts and stripped him of his title. Of course the Blacks hadn't been pleased with this and had been bitter enemies of James' family ever since. Despite the Blacks' lack of nobility, however, they remained influential members in the community of pureblood elitists and enjoyed a very glamorous lifestyle thanks to the old money of their ancestors.

_Everyone _knew all about the Blacks - even James, who had grown up so sheltered. In fact, James had been warned to stay away from families like the Blacks while he was at Hogwarts.

"The house of Black," James said softly, contemplatively, watching Sirius out of the corner of his eye. If Sirius had any idea who James was, he would surely hate him… it had been his father, after all, who had banished Lord Black from the royal courts.

Rather than stick his nose in the air or smirk, as James would have expected a Black to react, Sirius cringed and didn't take his eyes off his shoes as he answered James. "I'm nothing like them," he mumbled, as if ashamed he even had to acknowledge the family as his own.

"Maybe you can break the tradition, then," James offered the other boy a smile, finally taking notice of his discomfort. Perhaps Sirius was alright, after all.

Sirius finally looked up, realizing James wasn't going to judge him by his family's name, and grinned. "That's what I'm hoping for." Then, almost as an after-thought, "You said your last name is Potter? Are your parents Muggles?"

The question wasn't asked in disgust, as James imagined Sirius' relatives would have posed the question, but in curiosity. Yet James' stomach flopped at Sirius' query, not wanting to lie to his first possible friend, but knowing he couldn't tell him the full truth, either.

"No. They, er… my mum… "

As James stumbled for a half-truth to give to Sirius, the compartment door swung open and a scrawny boy with sandy blonde hair entered, dragging a worn-out trunk behind him. The boy looked up, appearing a little nervous as he realized the compartment was already occupied.

"Oh, sorry. I'll just-"

"No, stay!" James interrupted, grateful for the distraction. He waved the newcomer to a seat, signaling for him to sit down. The boy hesitated at first, then slowly nodded and sat. "We were just talking about which houses we'd like to be sorted into. I'm James Potter, by the way" - He settled for a simple introduction this time and watched for the other boy's reaction cautiously. He still couldn't understand why Sirius had laughed at him. - "and he's Sirius Black."

"Remus Lupin," the other boy provided politely. "It's nice to meet you, James." He couldn't help but eye Sirius somewhat warily as he focused his attention on the boy with the elegant black hair, obviously catching onto Sirius' surname much quicker than James had. "And you too, Sirius," he added, in a tone slightly less friendly than the one he had used to address James.

"Yeah, I know," Sirius rolled his eyes, noticing Remus' look. Sirius had a funny expression on his face; it was almost hard to tell if he was amused or if he was annoyed. "A Black. But we've already talked about it and I fully plan on becoming a traitor," he added, winking at James knowingly.

James grinned. Sirius was better than he had initially given him credit for. "Right," he assured Remus, nodding.

Remus frowned. "But what about your family?"

"What about them?" Sirius asked, snorting.

"Won't they… well… I've heard things about them - _everyone _has, I think - and… you know," Remus shrugged, his questions beginning to sound lame even to his own ears. What Sirius chose to do wasn't any of his business, after all. Besides, it was good that Sirius didn't want to be like the other Blacks.

"Disown me? Send me howlers? Plot my murder?" Sirius listed nonchalantly, ticking off the possibilities on his fingers. "Probably. So what?"

Remus was silent, feeling foolish for having ever questioned Sirius in the first place. "I can see how your family would be miserable to live with."

"You have no idea," Sirius rolled his eyes, crossing his arms at the thought of his family. He felt bad for leaving Regulus home alone with all the lunatics, but he was obviously relieved to finally escape the ancient and most noble house of Black. "Since Skeeter's article, they've been even worse than normal."

James realized that whatever Sirius was talking about was supposed to be common knowledge because Remus seemed to know exactly what Sirius was referring to as he nodded sympathetically.

"Skeeter's article?" James asked curiously, unable to help himself. If his mother wanted him to blend in and appear to be a normal wizard, she really should have allowed him to catch up on everything that was going on in the wizarding world. He knew the basic information about the Blacks, but nothing recent.

"She's been trying to paint my family as outcasts," Sirius shrugged. Obviously the criticism of his family didn't bother _him_. "Since my family technically hasn't been noble for years now."

"So?" James wanted to know. It was curious that the _Blacks _of all people were being called outcasts by this Skeeter person. From what James had heard, the Blacks' lack of nobility didn't harm their social life. "I mean, I know your dad had his title taken away when m-" James had been about to say 'my father', but quickly corrected himself, "the late king found out he had been torturing Muggles, but-"

"What did you say?" Sirius cut James off, a bewildered expression on his face.

James frowned, confused by Sirius' reaction. "I just find it curious that an article painted your family as outcasts," he repeated, speaking slowly. "I know your father lost his title a few years ago, but from what I've heard-"

"No, not that!" Sirius cut James off, shaking his head. "The other thing."

James was beginning to get frustrated. He wasn't used to all the questioning and interruptions; his mother hadn't told him normal kids were so rude. But he was mostly frustrated because he had no idea what Sirius was speaking of, or why it was a big deal.

James looked to Remus for help, but found the other boy was staring back at him with a blank expression on his face. Running a hand through his hair and sighing, as if trying to keep his patience, James focused his attention back on Sirius. "Pardon me?" he asked, clearly confused.

Sirius gave James an odd look, shaking his head again. "Do you always talk like that?"

Looking insulted, James opened his mouth as if to retort, but Sirius continued without waiting for a response. "The part about my father torturing Muggles. It's… not common knowledge, or at least I didn't think it was. My parents always made me swear not to tell anyone - dunno why, since everyone knows they hate Muggles, but y'know."

"I didn't know about it," Remus shrugged, speaking up softly. He still looked a little unsure of the two boys in front of him, but seemed determined to make the most of the situation. "I remember hearing my parents talking about your father losing his title, Sirius, but I never knew why he lost it."

"Exactly," Sirius nodded, before turning back to James. "I was just shocked that you knew, that's all - not that I _care_. My parents are gits. But how did you know?"

Merlin! If the rest of the year was going to be like this, James' secret would be out in no time. But how was he supposed to know what not to say, when his mother had kept him sheltered for so long? He didn't think talking about the Blacks would cause any suspicion. _Everyone _- nobles, commoners, purebloods, half-bloods, whoever - knew of the Blacks. They were infamous in the wizarding world, for all the wrong reasons.

James did some quick-thinking, then swallowed and hoped they'd buy his story. "A family friend of ours works at the palace." It wasn't a lie. Servants like Caroline had been around for so long that James thought of them as family. "She overheard a few members of the court talking about your father, Sirius. I suppose she is not supposed to repeat what she hears in the palace corridors, but perhaps she just thought it was only a matter of time until the situation became common knowledge."

Sirius and Remus simply stared at James, before turning as one and looking at each other instead.

"Blimey, he _does _always talk like that!" Sirius informed Remus, upon which James glowered.

"I don't think it's that bad," Remus added kindly, even as he looked to be holding back laughter at Sirius' proclamation.

"What are you _talking _about?" James demanded, sounded insulted as he leaned forward in his seat.

"The way you talk like such a pompous-" Sirius was quick to answer, but cut off at Remus' glare and shrugged in fake sheepishness. "Sorry," he added, although he didn't sound sorry. "My parents wanted me to talk all proper, too, but" -Sirius grinned proudly, as if what he had achieved was of great merit- "I turned out to be a heathen."

James rolled his eyes, but mentally he made a note to pay closer attention to how the other kids talked. But he was _not _pompous, thank you very much.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" A voice directly outside their compartment inquired before James had a chance to defend his manner of speaking.

James immediately pulled his gold out of his robe pockets and jumped out of his seat, planning on buying some Chocolate Frogs, when he noticed that both Remus and Sirius had remained seated. "Neither of you want anything?" he asked with a frown, finding that odd.

"My dear old mum refused to give me any gold. Said I don't deserve it after throwing that dungbomb at Bella," Sirius shrugged. Judging by the devilish grin on his face, he wasn't the least bit remorseful; if anything, he was smug.

James made a mental note to ask about _that _later, then turned to find Remus studying his shoelaces. It was only then that James took notice of Remus' obviously used robes and the duct tape holding his trunk together. Looking down at the bag of gold in his hand and then at the impeccable, silk robes both he and Sirius were wearing, James was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt.

"My mother gave me a little extra," James spoke up, sparing Remus the trouble of answering. He singled a few Galleons and slid the compartment door open, where the trolley lady was waiting patiently. "I'm not going to need all this anyway. What do you two like?"

Sirius wasted no time in hopping up from his seat and joining James at the trolley, inspecting the candy.

Remus, however, flushed. "Thanks, but I'm fine," he told James, holding up a plain, brown sack. "My mum packed me a snack, I'm alright."

"Pick something," James ordered Remus in a no-nonsense sort of way, gesturing to the trolley. He selected several Chocolate Frogs for himself before adding a threat, "Or Sirius and I will decide Bloodpops are your favorite and force them down your throat."

"And here I thought you were going to be a boring goody two-shoes!" Sirius exclaimed to James, holding up his hand for a high-five. "Brilliant idea! If we don't do that to him, we should do it to someone else."

James stared at Sirius' hand, unsure what he was supposed to do with it. Finally, hesitating, he followed his instinct and reached up and slapped it. Sirius didn't make any sort of smart remark or fix James with an odd look, so James reckoned he must have done the right thing for once.

Remus sighed as he stood up, realizing he wasn't going to win this battle. But was that really a bad thing?

Unless maybe Remus was allergic to sweets or something? One of the servants at the palace, Greta, had some sort of condition called diabetes - which, as far as James could gather, meant she became sick if she ate too much sugar. Maybe Remus had diabetes, too; he _did _look a little pale and sickly. Greta was one of their few squib servants, though, and James was pretty sure he heard someone once say that diabetes only affected those without magic - but maybe he'd heard wrong.

"If you're not supposed to have sweets, that's fine," James quickly assured Remus. "I just thought-"

"No, no," Remus cut off James, smiling at him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude, but I feel guilty taking your money. I just… you're sure it's not a problem?"

"He wouldn't have offered if it was," Sirius interjected.

Glancing over at Sirius, James snorted when he saw the other boy had three boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, a couple Licorice Wands, and some Chocolate Frogs. At least _he _didn't have a problem. Or any concept of money - not that James particularly did, either.

"Not at all," James assured Remus, picking out a few more things for himself.

Remus hesitated for only a moment before following James' and Sirius' examples, picking out his favorite snacks-most of which involved chocolate in some form or another. Once they all had their snacks, James paid the lady and the three of them retreated to their seats.

The boys quickly escalated into a discussion about Quidditch as they pigged out on their candy, which James was thankful for because he was pretty sure there was absolutely nothing he was more comfortable with, and talked about their favorite teams and how it was unfair that first years weren't allowed to tryout for Quidditch at Hogwarts. Well, _James _thought it was unfair; Sirius liked watching Quidditch but wasn't big on playing, and Remus was completely indifferent toward the sport.

The topic of Quidditch at Hogwarts brought up the houses again, so James and Sirius discovered that Remus was hoping to be sorted into either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, although he quietly went on to claim that he'd be happy with _any _house so long as it wasn't Slytherin. Of course this got Sirius talking about his family, and soon enough James and Remus were laughing so hard that they were practically crying as they listened to the pranks Sirius had pulled on his older cousins.

"… Narcissa's in sixth year and in Slytherin. She's a prefect. Lucius Malfoy is Head Boy this year - I'd stay away from him if I were you. Most arrogant twat I've ever met. It could be fun to prank him, but quite frankly I'm not sure that I can really be bothered to waste any of my time on that git."

James definitely knew of the Malfoys. Abraxas Malfoy, although James had never met him, was one of the most prominent members of the court - or so Abraxas thought. James knew that neither his mother nor his uncle could stand Abraxas and just kept him around out of obligation. From the stories he'd heard about Abraxas, however, James couldn't help but wonder how long it would be until Abraxas was kicked out of court like Orion Black - he certainly seemed like the type to meddle in the Dark Arts, although perhaps he was sneakier and had more common sense than Sirius' father. After all, there were coutntless stories and rumors about the Malfoy family, but nothing could ever be proven or traced back to them. On top of that, Abraxas was, at the very least, said to be a very skilled schmooze.

"Well, none of us are going to be seeing much of the Slytherins, anyway - especially those who are not in our year," James spoke up confidently, grinning. "Hopefully we'll all be in Gryffindor, but I think I could stand being friends with a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, too," he added, addressing Remus.

"But if you're a Slytherin, we're pretending like we've never met you," Sirius added jokingly to Remus, munching on one of his Licorice Wands.

"And what if you follow in your family's footsteps?" James raised an eyebrow at Sirius.

"I won't," Sirius insisted firmly, although it seemed as if he was assuring himself more than he was assuring his new friends. "I've never been like my family. Unless…"

Sirius paused and James and Remus sat there silently, eating their candy and giving Sirius time to collect his thoughts.

"… you don't think I'll go to Slytherin just because of my last name, do you?" he asked worriedly, staring at Remus and James in genuine concern. "How are we sorted, anyway? No one would tell me."

Remus and James shrugged.

"I don't know how we're sorted, but I don't think you'd automatically go to Slytherin because of your surname," James told Sirius thoughtfully, opening a Chocolate Frog and sighing in disappointment when he saw that he'd gotten Helga Hufflepuff - _again_. "And if you are, well, then we can't be friends."

Sirius paled and James laughed, patting him on the back. "I was only kidding, mate. You don't seem like your family at all, from what I've heard. I don't care what house you're in, but it will be cool if we're all together."

The three of them talked about the houses a bit more before moving onto other things; they joked around, showed off the magic they already knew (well, more James and Sirius than Remus), and briefly talked about their families. Occasionally Sirius would snicker at some of the language James would use and James would glare at Sirius-then quickly forget about the insult as the conversation topic changed.

The Blacks were just as bad as James had always heard, although Sirius at least seemed to have a somewhat decent relationship with his younger brother Regulus, and James and Remus couldn't help but outwardly cringe at some of Sirius' stories. At first James had been worried when the subject of the Blacks came up, afraid Sirius or Remus would remember their conversation from earlier and become suspicious of him, but no one brought it up.

Remus told James and Sirius about his family, too. James was surprised to hear that Remus' mother was a gardener for the Longbottoms and that Remus' father, although a wizard, made a living as a tutor for young Muggle children. Remus didn't have any siblings, but his parents sounded like good people. There was something off about Remus, though; he seemed very tired and looked a little ill. When James asked him about it, Remus said he was just nervous about the sorting.

James was able to talk somewhat honestly about his family without giving away anything too specific. He told Sirius and Remus that it was just him and his mum since his father was dead, and that his mum was usually busy with work. He also complained at how overprotective his mother could be and told them about how once he'd fallen off his broom and she hadn't let him play Quidditch again for months.

Time passed quickly and, before they knew it, the boys were stepping off the train and approaching a very large man who was standing near a bunch of boats.

"Firs' years, over 'ere!" he called over and over, even once James was sure all the first years were standing in front of the big man.

The big man, who had introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid - gamekeeper of Hogwarts - instructed the first years to get into the boats, four people per each boat. James, Sirius, and Remus immediately claimed one together and were joined by a short, plump, awkward-looking boy with small, blue eyes.

"P-Peter Pettigrew," he piped up, introducing himself nervously. Casting a glance over his shoulder at Hagrid, he quickly added, "He told me to get in here. … is that okay?" he asked uncertainly, as if afraid the other boys would be offended, lift him up, and chuck him overboard into the lake.

"No," Sirius said seriously, causing the other boy to pale and Sirius to begin snickering.

"I don't mind you joining us," Remus was the first to assure Peter as Sirius continued to snicker and James simply stared at Peter, as if he had never seen anyone like him. "I'm Remus Lupin."

"Er-yeah, you're fine," James quickly joined in, breaking out of his trance. Peter was very odd-looking. "James Potter."

"Sirius Black."

Peter paled at the last name and Sirius' grin took up his face. "Yes, one of _the _Blacks. Be afraid, Pettigrew," he told the other boy, drawing his wand dramatically.

"Oh, lay off," James rolled his eyes, shoving Sirius. "Sirius is mentally disturbed," he explained to Peter.

That just seemed to make Peter even more nervous. What was wrong with this kid?

"He's messing with you," Remus joined in as the boat began to move in the direction of the castle. "You're fine."

"O-oh, yes. I know," Peter squeaked, as if he had been in on the joke the whole time.

Sirius rolled his eyes and snickered again. James' shoulders were shaking, but he shoved Sirius for a second time, silently telling him to shut up.

At least they knew of one person who _wouldn't _be in Gryffindor.


	4. The Sorting

**The Crux of Despair**

**Chapter 4: The Sorting**

A stern-looking witch wordlessly led the first years to a small room which was near what James assumed to be the Great Hall. The students had to huddle close together in order for all of them to fit inside the minuscule space and James found himself sandwiched between Sirius and Peter.

The witch stood before the group of nervous first years and gave them a quick look-over. For one brief moment, James felt as if her eyes had briefly paused on him, but he dismissed it as paranoia.

The students were utterly silent as the woman began speaking, her authoritative voice resounding throughout the room. "Good evening and welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and head of Gryffindor house. The feast will begin momentarily, but first you will all be sorted into your houses. Not only is the sorting tradition, it is also very important because…"

Sirius elbowed James in the ribs as McGonagall continued her speech. Caught off-guard, James winced before turning to Sirius.

"What?" James hissed.

"… all of you are to remain here. I will return to get you when it is time for the Sorting," Professor McGonagall could be heard finishing her speech. James and Sirius paused, waiting until the witch had left the room, before continuing their conversation. Most of the other students in the room also started to animately chatter after the intimidating witch had left.

"See the boy over there?" Sirius asked, inclining his head toward a boy with brown hair and green eyes. He already had a group of friends, of which he seemed to be the leader. Their shoulders were shaking in laughter, although James couldn't quite tell what they were laughing about. By the expressions on their faces, however, it was easy to assume that the inside joke was _not_ innocent.

James nodded, not taking his eyes off the brown-haired boy. The boy, of course, didn't notice.

"That's Avery. He spent a few weeks with my family last summer. My parents reckon we should be _friends_. If they had their way, I'd be over there with him and his cronies right now."

"Avery…" James played with the name, thinking. Then, frowning, "Wait, one of_ the_ Averys? Isn't his father the one who-"

"… was one of Voldemort's first followers?" Sirius cut in, crinkling his nose in distaste. Next to him, Peter flinched. Remus didn't appear to be afraid of the name, but he did gaze at Sirius in obvious surprise. James didn't seem affected by Voldemort's name, but he did glare at Avery. "Yeah, that'd be him alright. But if you ask my mum, he's _such a sweet boy_ and _so polite_."

"Ew."

"Tell me about it."

"But," Remus interjected, making his presence known. "Nothing was ever proven, was it? His father's still a Duke and everything."

"Nah, the Averys are too smart to leave proof," Sirius shrugged. "I think all Voldemort's lackeys took a cue from my dear old dad's mistake."

"It's messed up, though," Remus pointed out. "Hard proof or not, everyone in the wizarding world knows what the Averys are up to."

"Yeah, well," James broke into the conversation again. "All the old families know they can get away with murder as long as they don't leave any proof. Regardless of whether everyone knows or not, there's hell to pay if you do anything to them without solid evidence."

"Exactly," Sirius agreed. "It's a bloody mess. Trust me, I live with people like that. Someone needs to figure out a way to put them in their place."

Peter glanced from James to Sirius to Remus, looking rather lost. Still, he tried to make himself a part of the group. "Yeah. That Longbottom guy is too easy on them."

Looking up sharply, James glared at Peter. Over the past few years, he'd begun to think of his uncle as another father-figure. Without Uncle David around, life after his father passed away would have been even worse. He'd been around to do fatherly things with James and helped to make sure James' mother wasn't _too overbearing_. Without Uncle David, James probably wouldn't even be at Hogwarts right now.

"He's just _one_ man, you know," he pointed out defensively. "Besides. He might be Protector of the Crown, but he still doesn't have as much power as he would have if he was King. Plus, there's the Wizengamot and the Ministry to deal with… not to mention foreign relations and the High Court."

"Sorry," Peter squeaked. "I didn't - "

"_And,_" James continued, not bothering to let Peter finish. "Even without being Protector of the Crown, he's still a Duke. You don't just call him 'that Longbottom guy'. That's so - "

Peter looked at James as if he had just informed him that they were having hippogriff for lunch. Finally, James noticed the other boy's baffled expression and cut off somewhat sheepishly.

"Sorry," he apologized with a half-shrug. "My mum likes politics. If you want to blame someone, blame Voldemort."

"Enough with the grown-up talk," Sirius lowered his tone, his gaze focused on something else entirely. "I hear enough of that at home. I brought some Dungbombs with me. Maybe we can find Avery later..."

XXX

Avery approached a greasy-haired boy who was standing next to a redhead girl. He walked regally, with an air of total confidence, and glanced over his shoulder to smirk at his two lackeys before stopping in front of the greasy-haired boy and fixing him with a sneer.

"Snape," he greeted coolly with a jerk of his head. "My father told me I'd find you here. He said I might give you a chance… that your mother was once talented before she married that scum you call a father. He thought perhaps I could put you in line before you, ah, follow in her footsteps."

The boy named Snape frowned and his eyes grew cold, but - to James' surprise - he didn't make any move to defend his parents.

"Avery," he said simply, shoulders shagging. He was wearing used robes that looked very similar to Remus', which highly contrasted to Avery's expensive attire.

Avery snorted, looking Snape up and down. Finally his eyes landed on the redhead; the sneer returned to his face. "Ah, but you're already hanging out with a _Mudblood_. She's one if I ever saw one. What's wrong with - ?"

"Mudblood?" the red head interrupted coldly, stepping forward. Avery was a full head taller than the redhead, but she glared up at him, unintimidated. "_What_ did you call me?"

"Lily, don't," Snape cut in, eyeing Avery warily.

"What do you mean _don't_?" she demanded, looking hurt. "You told me what that word means. You're just going to let him get away with it?"

"Aw, Snape. You've got a girlfriend!" Avery cackled, folding his arms across his chest. "A Mudblood, no less. Won't your blood-traitor mother be proud!"

"I'm not his girlfriend," Lily insisted, stepping even closer to Avery. She held her head high and fixed Avery with a dirty look. "Leave him alone."

"Lily, really - " Snape protested.

Avery snorted, then smirked. "Next thing I know, you'll be telling me you're hoping to go into _Gryffindor_, Snape."

"Never," he hissed, and his greasy hair fell in front of his eyes, making him look even nastier than usual. Lily frowned.

"Oh yeah? Sure seems like it," Avery shrugged, backing away to rejoin his friends. He raised an eyebrow at Snape on his way, stuffing his hands into his robe pockets. "Well, the offer's open if you're sorted into Slytherin. Bear in mind that I don't give second chances."

Snape looked as if a part of him was considering following the nasty boy, but Lily tugged at his robes. Tearing his eyes away from Avery, Snape's head whipped around to face his friend.

"Severus?" Lily asked, concerned. "What was that about? Who is he?"

"No one," Snape assured Lily with a sigh, although his gaze returned to Avery. "Just not someone you want to get on the wrong side of."

"He called me a Mudblood," Lily reminded Snape, eyes flashing dangerously. "You just let him call me a Mudblood!"

"I_ told_ you, Lily, you don't want to get on his bad side. He can do things to you. He'll realize you aren't bad when you're sorted into Slytherin. He's just testing us."

"Testing us?" Lily repeated, her eyes narrowing. "What gives him the right to test anyone?"

"His family," Snape replied truthfully, staring longingly at Avery and his friends. "They're one of the oldest pureblood families around."

"You said that didn't matter," Lily pointed out. Then she rolled her eyes. "What does that matter anyway? People can't help which families they're born into. I say he's arrogant and pompous."

"He's not that bad," Snape insisted with a sigh. His eyes remained on Avery; after a few seconds, he was fairly sure that the two boys with Avery were Mulciber and Nott. If he could just get Lily to understand, and if they could get in with Avery and his gang…

"Whatever. _I_ don't like him."

Avery caught Snape staring and smirked, nodding coolly. Snape looked away hastily.

"You'll see. When we're sorted into Slytherin - "

"You really think they'll let me in Slytherin?" Lily looked doubtful. "Even though I'm Muggleborn?"

"Of course," Snape wasn't so sure, but he hoped Lily would be in Slytherin. "If for some chance they won't, I'm sure you'll be in Ravenclaw. Ravenclaws and Slytherins can talk."

"What if I'm in Gryffindor?" Lily asked quietly. "Will we still be friends?"

Snape hesitated. "I - I'm sure you won't be in Gryffindor."

"But what if I am?" Lily persisted, placing her hands on her hips. "Besides, I rather _like _the sound of Gryffindor. What's so bad about being brave? The king is even a descendent of Godric Gryffindor. I think it would be nice to -"

"No," Snape cut in icily. "You won't be in Gryffindor. You're nothing like a Gryffindor."

"But - "

"Trust me. Gryffindor isn't what everyone makes it out to be."

Professor McGonagall returned for the students a few minutes later, then led them to a pair of elegant double doors. Most of the students _ooh'd_ and _aah'd_ appropriately and the muggleborns gazed at the moving portraits of the wall in a mixture of shock and amazement.

The witch pushed the doors open, revealing an enormous room with four long tables filled with more people than James had ever seen in his life. A fifth table was at the very front of the room and Professor Dumbledore could be seen sitting in the center, in a rather large and eccentric chair, fondly looking at the new students. James beamed at the old man - even though he felt sure that Dumbledore couldn't make him out amidst the throng of incoming students. Dumbledore, at least, was someone James had met before… on several different occasions.

As he walked further into the room, he suddenly felt very small; he was just another kid, another student. There were hundreds of other students in the room who were older - and probably stronger - than him, and it was a feeling he wasn't used to. They didn't know he was the king; they didn't even know he came from a powerful family, like the Blacks and the Averys. Power and recognition were two things he had always taken for granted - he'd never lived any other way - but here he was going to have to make everyone like and respect him for who he was, not for _what_ he was… or for what he would become. On hindsight, it was very intimidating.

But as he walked alongside Sirius and Remus - two friends he had already made - he realized that maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it could even be a chance to relax without having to worry about everyone judging him as the future king of the wizarding world in the United Kingdom, but as an eleven-year-old boy. Normal might be _good._ The palace was safe, after all, but was also very lonely.

At last, the procession of first years came to a stop. Minerva McGonagall stepped forward so that she was standing next to a simple wooden stool that had an ugly, brown hat sitting on its surface.

Sirius and James exchanged incredulous looks.

"That's_ it_? A bloody _hat_?" Sirius whispered, appearing as if he wanted to burst out laughing. "My cousin Andromeda told me I'd have to tame a hippogriff!"

"I studied for a test," Remus admitted sheepishly. "I must have read _Hogwarts, A History_ three times…"

"Ouch," Peter sympathized, finally contributing to the conversation. "I think I'd rather fight Sirius' hippogriff."

"I would be doomed if we had to tame a hippogriff - or fight one, whichever," James laughed. "I thought we might have to duel or something… or take a test, like Remus said."

"Did you study, too?" Sirius snorted.

"Nah," James shrugged, shooting Sirius a grin. "I figured just boldly going into it would be more Gryffindor-like."

"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall was saying, "you will take a seat on the stool and I will place the hat on your head. You will then join your house table."

All the first years immediately stopped talking and focused their complete attention on the deputy Headmistress, who pulled a long scroll of parchment out of her robes. A few moments of silence passed as she smoothed out the paper.

"Avery, Alexander!"

"If that one's not sorted into Slytherin, I'll eat my own foot," Sirius muttered as the brown-haired boy strutted toward the stool, then sat down confidently. The hat took a few seconds longer than James expected, then-

"_Slytherin_!"

The Slytherin house erupted into cheers and Avery stood from the stool, smirking, and practically pranced toward the table with the green and silver banners. About half of Ravenclaw clapped politely, but James noticed that Gryffindor and Hufflepuff - for the most part - remained utterly silent.

"Told you," Sirius snorted.

"Barnes, Hilary!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

All the students in the Great Hall, with the exception of the Slytherins and the nervous first years, applauded as a plump girl with curly blonde hair was the first to join Hufflepuff's table.

"Black, Sirius!"

Sirius suddenly looked as if he was going to be sick, and James knew his friend was worrying that the hat was going to place him in Slytherin just because he was a Black.

"You'll be fine," James mouthed to his new friend, pushing him forward, and then Sirius slowly started walking toward the wooden stool.

The Slytherin house watched Sirius expectantly as he sat at the stool - obviously assuming he would soon be joining them - and McGonagall placed the worn hat on his head. Sirius gripped the stool nervously as he sat there; the carefree attitude he'd had in the train now seemed to be gone. The hat was silent for several minutes, longer than both Avery and Barnes combined, until it finally opened its mouth (at least, that's what James _assumed_ you'd call it) and -

"_Gryffindor_!"

The entire hall was silent as Sirius bounced off the stool, grinning hugely, and practically ran to join his house. Then, seeming to break out of their trance, the Gryffindors started to cheer and applaud, accepting their newest member.

"Go, Sirius!" James joined the cheers, despite not being sorted yet. Sirius heard his friend and turned to give him a thumbs-up, before Frank Longbottom - who was in fifth year and had just been made a prefect - scooted over and invited Sirius to sit next to him. Frank noticed James and gave him a friendly smile, but quickly looked away. Part of Frank's job as a prefect was, of course, to greet the first years and watch out for them for the first few days… but James knew that for his animosity to remain intact at Hogwarts, him and Frank couldn't allow anyone to know that they already knew each other.

Professor McGonagall glared at the table of Slytherins - who had started booing when Sirius sat with the Gryffindors - until they quieted down. Then Professor McGonagall proceeded with the list of names. A few more went to Hufflepuff, then a student was finally sorted into Ravenclaw, then McGonagall called for "Evans, Lily!" and a girl with dark, red hair came forward nervously.

She glanced at a greasy-haired boy once she took her seat on the stool, before taking a deep breath and looking straight ahead as the hat was placed on her head. The hat only took a few moments of silence before proclaiming-

"_Gryffindor_!"

The girl, looking quite pale and shaken, gingerly removed the hat and placed it on the stool before beginning to walk toward her assigned table. As the Gryffindors started to cheer, she seemed to become more comfortable and smiled a little, taking a seat across from Sirius.

James thought he heard someone nearby curse, but then the hall was silent again and the Sorting continued. Several others were sorted before Remus' name was called, and James grinned and cheered as his second friend joined Sirius at Gryffindor's table.

"MacDonald, Mary!"

"_Gryffindor_!"

"McKinnon, Marlene!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Mulciber, Ameritus!"

"_Slytherin_!"

"Nadir, James!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

"Nott, Max!"

"_Slytherin_!"

"Pettigrew, Peter!"

James wasn't sure how he felt about Peter yet - he couldn't tell if Peter was really as spineless as he seemed, or if he was just shy and needed time to warm up - but he grinned at the other boy anyway and wished him good luck. Mostly, he was excited because he knew it was finally almost his turn to be sorted.

To James' great surprise, Peter was on the stool almost as long as Sirius had been before he, too, was sent to the Gryffindor table. James honestly hadn't been expecting Peter to go to Gryffindor - perhaps Hufflepuff - but he watched as Peter joined Remus and Sirius at the table, and Remus patted Peter on the back. Maybe Peter wasn't so bad. It was normal to be nervous and uncomfortable on the first day of school, after all.

James had already taken a step forward, sure that his name was going to be next.

"Pewter, Penelope!"

James inwardly groaned and stepped back. Sirius, who had been watching James, snickered.

"_Slytherin_!"

"Poke, Royden!"

James sighed impatiently, suddenly wishing he had a fake surname that was closer to the beginning of the alphabet. If only he could have used Gryffindor…

But that would have ruined everything.

"_Ravenclaw_!"

"Potter, James!"

Finally. It didn't even cross James' mind to be nervous about the Sorting until he was sitting on the stool, waiting for Professor McGonagall to place the hat on his head. It wasn't being the focus of the room that made him nervous - he had, after all, grown up knowing that he would one day be king and simply _had_ to be able to comfortably deal with people - but what if he wasn't sorted into Gryffindor? Descendent of Godric Gryffindor and King of the wizarding world of the United Kingdom or not, that wasn't a free pass to the house of his choice.

Was it?

Then it suddenly occurred to James that this hat - what kind of hat talked, anyway? - would probably know exactly who he was. It wouldn't blurt it out for the entire Great Hall to hear, would it?

Before James could think up any other awful scenarios, he felt the hat fall onto his head, the brim coming just over the rims of his glasses.

"_Ahh… interesting_," the hat said. James, having grown up in the wizarding world, didn't find this the least bit abnormal. _"Very interesting. It's not very often that I get to sort someone like you_."

_Hurry up_, James found himself thinking, and the hat chuckled.

"_A little impatient, I see. Very Gryffindor of you. And brave… yes, indeed, very brave. But what's this I see? You're also clever…_"

James made a face, hoping the hat wasn't going to sort him into Ravenclaw.

"_No_," The hat assured him hastily. "_No Ravenclaw for you. I can't deny that you have some of the qualities, but it is nowhere near the best fit. I see nowhere to put you but Gryffindor..._" James lit up, sure that the Sorting was almost over. "_Unless…_"

James groaned.

_Gryffindor!_ He ordered the hat. _Just put me in Gryffindor_!

"_But are you sure?_" the hat questioned, and James felt that the hat was mocking him. "_You are cunning when you need to be, my boy… and, I daresay, you are planning to use that skill on your friends and everyone else. Although_," the hat considered, "_I can see why it is necessary, Mr. Potter. Or should I say 'Your Majesty'?_"

James bristled, inwardly praying that no one else could hear the hat talking to him._ I'm not a Slytherin_, he informed the hat stubbornly.

"_I never said you were_," the hat laughed, amused. _"A Slytherin would take advantage of his title and power, not try to hide it. I was simply testing you. You're so much like your father, you know. So stubborn, but with such a noble heart. He would be proud of you_."

James didn't know whether he should take the hat off and light it on fire or say thank you. The mention of his father ignited a flurry of emotions and made his eyes sting; James forced himself not to blink. He liked to think his father _would_ be proud of him. He knew his dad would be proud if James was sorted into Gryffindor, something the two of them had talked about so often before Charlus grew ill.

"_I didn't mean to upset you_," the hat apologized, sighing.

James was silent, waiting for the hat to get on with it. He tried to will himself not to think of his father, but found himself imagining that his father had been at Platform nine-and-three-quarters to send him off… that his father had hugged him goodbye and told him to stay out of trouble. His identity wouldn't have been quite as big of a deal then, because then he would just be a prince. He wouldn't have to lie to his first friends and worry that they'd eventually find out and hate him.

_"Write to me when you're settled,"_ his father would say, and then they'd write back and forth until the Christmas holidays. His father would make time for him, even though being King was a busy job. They'd stay up late playing Wizard's Chess when James couldn't sleep and his father would find numerous ways to relate the game to James' future role, but James wouldn't even care because the possibility of becoming King wouldn't be real to him.

Over the summer between first and second year, his father would make time to help James practice Quidditch. His father, who had been Keeper while he was at Hogwarts, would guard the goal posts while James practiced as Chaser. He wouldn't go easy on his son, because he'd understand how important Quidditch was to James, but James would still manage to get a few goals past his dad. Then Charlus would congratulate his son and say they'd play again tomorrow; and when it was time to go shopping for new school supplies, Charlus would buy his son the best broom that was out and give it to James right before he left for Hogwarts.

And if Charlus was still around, James' mother wouldn't be so overprotective and overbearing. And she wouldn't distract herself with work nearly as much.

James hated his father for dying. He hated his father for leaving him when he needed him so badly - when _everyone_ needed him so badly. He hated his father for leaving him with a pain that was at times impossible to ignore; a pain that, when at its very worst, sometimes made it seem impossible to ever move on.

He took a deep breath, again forcing himself not to blink. He wished he was at home and could lock himself in his room - not in front of hundreds of other students in an unfamiliar castle.

And he wished the bloody hat would hurry up and stop torturing him.

"_I really am sorry_," the hat apologized again. Once again, James ignored it. After a few seconds of silence, the hat finally continued. "_Very well, then. There really is only one place to put you…_"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

James was barely aware of the Great Hall erupting into cheers as he shakily stood and placed the Sorting Hat on the stool - a bit more forcefully than was necessary. He didn't look at Professor McGonagall - who had given him a very quiet "Welcome to Gryffindor" after he'd been sorted into her house - and refused to make eye contact with Sirius.

When he did finally reach the Gryffindor table, he forced himself to smile at the other students in his house and sat next to Sirius, hoping his friend hadn't noticed anything strange.

Luckily, it didn't appear as if James' new friends knew him well enough yet to tell that something was wrong - but James felt Frank watching him warily out of the corner of his eye.

"We're all in Gryffindor, mate!" Sirius announced happily, giving James a high-five.

"I told you that you wouldn't be in Slytherin," James gave Sirius a forced smile as the applause died down and McGonagall read the next student's name.

Sirius flashed James a grin before turning to watch the rest of the Sorting. James determinedly kept his gaze away from his cousin - Frank, who was like a brother to him and would surely find some excuse to pull him aside later if he thought something was wrong - and looked ahead, at the front of the hall, instead.

Almost as soon as he did so, he made eye contact with Professor Dumbledore, who had apparently been watching the young king. The Headmaster gave James a comforting smile, then discreetly raised his water glass, silently toasting the new Gryffindor. Despite the situation, James felt the corners of his mouth turn up just slightly, and Dumbledore winked and nodded at him before returning his attention to the Sorting.

James didn't pay attention as a Rosier and a Snape were sorted into Slytherin. Instead, he glanced up at the enchanted ceiling - which was charmed to look like the night sky - feeling somewhat calmed by its peaceful presence.

_"We never know what's in our future, James,"_ he remembered his father telling him just months before he died._ "All we can do is make the best of the time we have. But the important thing,"_ -he had gently ruffled his son's hair at this point, and later on James found out that his father had known for quite some time that he was dying -_ "is that the ones we love will always be with us."_

_I'm in Gryffindor, Dad_, James thought, staring at the ceiling and instinctively raising his hand to mess up his hair. _Just like we always talked about._

"Alright, James?" Sirius asked concernedly, finally seeming to notice that something was off about his friend.

James broke out of his trance, snapping his head in Sirius' direction. "Yeah," he smiled, and at last he was being truthful. "Just thinking. You know, this year is going to be wicked. We're in _Gryffindor_."

Sirius seemed to accept that as an excuse. "I know," he said proudly, grinning. "My parents are going to be pissed. So, about those Dungbombs..."


	5. The Headmaster's Office

**Chapter 5**

"Slughorn's insane," Sirius decided as the four boys collapsed in big, overstuffed armchairs in the Gryffindor common room later the next evening. "My cousin Andromeda warned me about him, but I didn't expect him to be _that _bad."

"Or to look like a walrus," Peter supplied.

"He seems like a good teacher, though," Remus shrugged, pulling his Potions book out of his bag and flipping through it.

"Maybe," James said. "But I'm with Sirius and Peter. He's quite odd, and he resembles a walrus. I didn't know that was possible."

"Aww, be nice Jamesie," Sirius teased, propping his feet up on a nearby table. "He _likes _you, remember?"

"He invited you to the party, too," James reminded his friend pointedly, rolling his eyes. "So _you _can't talk."

"I wonder why he likes you two," Remus spoke up thoughtfully. As Sirius and James turned to him with identical 'but why _wouldn't _he like us?' expressions on their faces, he quickly added, "No offense. Just… we're in first year. He doesn't know who's talented yet, but he's already chosen his favorites. It seems odd."

"Jealous, Remus?" Sirius teased with a wicked grin. Remus slapped Sirius on the head good-naturedly. "I reckon he invited me because of my last name, to be honest. Andromeda's told me that Ol' Sluggy likes making connections. He picks kids from the right families, and kids that he thinks will be powerful and important or whatever later on. Has an eye for that sort of thing, apparently."

"Gee, thanks-"

Remus was cut off as a girl who looked to be in her fifth or sixth year approached, carrying a slip of parchment. Her hair was up in a ponytail, but a few curly strands hung loose and framed her face. Sirius winked at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Is one of you James Potter?" she asked, staring at the inscription on the parchment.

"Me," James spoke up, surprised. He adjusted his tie nervously, which caused Sirius to snicker and share a look with Peter. "Why?"

"I was supposed to find you," the girl replied, relinquishing the parchment to James. "Professor Dumbledore needs to see you in his office right away. I can take you there, if you want."

Sirius stopped joking around and gave James a bewildered look. "You have a private meeting with the Headmaster already? On our first day of classes?"

James ignored Sirius and stood, still looking at the girl confusedly. Of course he'd expected the Headmaster to send for him sooner or later, but on the first day of classes? Not exactly as subtle as James had hoped. "Erm, sure," he told the girl. "That'd be great."

She smiled at him and started to walk off, leading the way to the portrait, but James paused and turned to his friends. "I'll catch up with you guys later, I guess."

Sirius shook his head, looking as if he couldn't decide whether he should be impressed that James had scored a meeting with Dumbledore so early, or confused. Before he could make up his mind, James sprinted off after the girl. He unfolded the piece of parchment as he did so, wondering if the contents would give him some sort of clue as to why he had to meet the Headmaster _right now_, but was disappointed. In the middle of the parchment, in fancy calligraphy, it said simply: _I quite enjoy Sugar Quills_.

Frowning, James crumpled up the parchment and forced it into his robe pockets. The girl glanced at him as they exited the portrait hole. "What did the parchment say?" she asked.

"Something about Sugar Quills," James muttered, annoyed. Had the parchment just been a joke? Or was it some sort of secret language that no one had bothered to fill him in on?

The girl, however, didn't seem to find James' answer odd at all. She nodded distracted, which caused James to scowl. If there was anything he couldn't stand, it was being left in the dark.

"It's the password," the girl finally said. She pulled out her wand and muttered an incantation James hadn't learned yet. The tip of her wand instantly lit up, illuminating the dark corridors. "There. That's better, isn't it?"

"What password?" James pressed, folding his arms across his chest.

"The password to Professor Dumbledore's office, of course," she explained simply. James started to walk straight, but she reached out and gently took ahold of his wrist, tugging him in the right direction. "He always uses candy names for passwords. I think he does it on purpose, really… if there's ever an emergency, you could easily stand at the gargoyle and list off different sweets, and you'd probably guess the password in no time."

"The gargoy-"

"Ah, here we are," she cut him off cheerfully, stopping in front of a tall gargoyle. She pushed James forward. "I think you can find your own way from here."

James stared up at the gargoyle in wonder, then gaped at the girl, wondering what he was supposed to do. She just smiled encouragingly. "Um," he began hesitantly, stepping up a bit farther so that he was standing directly in front of the gargoyle. "Sugar Quills?"

Instantly, the gargoyle began to descend.

"Oh, and James?" the girl spoke up with a big grin, just as he'd been about to thank her. "Tell your cousin that he owes me. And it was _lovely _to finally meet you."

XXX

Unsurprisingly, Frank was already sitting in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. There wasn't any sign of the Headmaster himself, though, so James rushed toward Frank, feeling panicked.

"She knows who I am," he said, pacing back and forth. "She _has _to. How? I thought I'd at least get stay longer than one day-" he complained, breathing heavily.

Frank cut him off, shaking his head. He stood up and put a comforting hand on James' shoulder. "It's not what you think," he assured his younger cousin. "The girl McGonagall had bring you here? That was Alice. You know-"

"Your Alice," James filled in, realization dawning on him. Frank had gotten a girlfriend last year, and had spent practically the whole summer owling her. He rambled about her enough at their weekly family dinners that James knew her name, even if he'd never met her. "But still, I didn't think you'd…" James trailed off, his voice getting smaller. "… you know, tell her about me. Without telling me that you were planning on telling her about me."

Frank blinked at James' words, as if trying to make sense of them. Then he sighed and sat back down, gesturing for James to do the same. Reluctantly, James followed him.

"Yes, Alice knows," Frank began guiltily, glancing at James out of the corner of his eye to see how his cousin would take the news. James looked away. "But it wasn't my idea," he added, throwing his hands up in surrender. "And you can trust Alice, I swear."

"And you didn't think it was important to tell me this _before _I came to Hogwarts because….?"

"You're so infuriating sometimes," Frank rolled his eyes.

"Well, it's _my _life that you told her all about, in case you didn't realize!"

"It was my dad's idea," Frank sighed, giving up. "Of course he has Aurors stationed around the castle-"

"_What_? No one tells me anything!"

"-and Dumbledore and McGonagall know, but none of them spend much time in the common room or dorms, you know. If we really want to keep you safe-"

"I'm not a baby," James interrupted again.

Frank shot him a look. Sometimes James acted scarily mature for his age, but other times it was obvious that he was just an eleven-year-old kid. This was one of those times.

"_Anyway_, like I was saying. My dad told me to look after you, which I would have done anyway..." James shot him a look this time, and Frank rolled his eyes before continuing. "You're like my younger brother, whether you like it or not. Plus, I'm a prefect. Now, are you done interrupting? We don't have much time before everyone else gets here."

"Everyone else?"

Somehow, Frank seemed to take that as a _yes_. "To make a long story short, my dad thought it would be nice if at least one more person - an older student - knew, just in case. Alice is a prefect, too, and her family has always been very Light. So, after much deliberation, my dad gave me the go-ahead. I was going to introduce you two, properly, but… "

"Yeah, sure," James muttered. "Everyone's always telling me how _important _and _special _I am, but they treat me like… an object or something. It's not fair."

"Hey," Frank told James gently, patting him on the shoulder. James swatted his hand away. "If it's any consolation, I don't always have it much better. I may not be destined to rule this country one day, but my dad's pretty much doing that job right now. So I've been getting the glass treatment a bit, too."

"At least you don't have to lie to your first friends," James pointed out glumly. "When they find out, they're going to hate me."

"You don't know that," Frank told James. "You've only known them for, what, two days? Once you know them longer, you can tell them if you feel like you can trust them. They could surprise you."

"It feels like I've known them longer. All the secrets… they just don't feel right," James said, staring at the wall in front of him blankly. His future, and thinking about his friends' reactions, was overwhelming. Finally, in a desperate attempt to change the subject, he swallowed and turned back to Frank. "So, what are we here for anyway? You said other people are coming?"

"Professor McGonagall told me that we were expected in Dumbledore's office, and I asked Alice to get you so we wouldn't be seen together. I got here a few minutes before you did, and Dumbledore was still here. Then he got an owl, said he would be back with the others and left in a hurry."

"Weird," James replied. "I wonder-"

Right on cue, the fireplace turned green and Professor Dumbledore appeared, wiping ash off his robes. Dumbledore smiled at the two boys sitting in front of his desk, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Frank, who was much better at reading emotions than James, frowned in concern. "What's wrong, sir?"

"I think," Dumbledore said somberly, "That we should wait until the others arrive first."

Before anything else could be said, the fireplace lit up again. Alastor Moody appeared first, his magical eye scanning the room frantically. Although James didn't know many people in the magical world, he _had _become rather familiar with most of the Aurors over the years; he smiled, glad to see a familiar face. When the fire lit up for the third - and then fourth - time and his uncle and mother appeared, however, he finally realized that something was definitely wrong.

"It's Longbottom Manor," Dorea said breathlessly, raking a hand through her hair nervously. "It's gone. Completely destroyed."

Frank paled. "Mum-"

"She's fine," David rushed to assure him, although he looked to be rather shaken up himself. "She wasn't home at the time, thank Merlin. But some of the others…"

As his uncle trailed off, James knew he was talking about the servants. At least two hundred servants were employed at Longbottom Manor; some of them even _lived _there. If the damage was as bad as his mother made it sound…

"Dead," David said, shaking his head sadly. "Dead bodies everywhere. We have Aurors and Healers working the scene now, searching for survivors."

No one knew what to say. For several moments everyone was completely silent, shocked and saddened by the news. Finally, James asked the question that no one else seemed willing to bring up. "How?"

Dorea hesitated, as if realizing her son was there for the first time. She wanted to protect him from all of this, but it was too late. She looked to Dumbledore for help.

"Voldemort," the Headmaster replied solemnly, staring at his young pupil as if testing him. James didn't flinch. His expression turned to one of rage. "He left his mark above the remains, along with a message."

"A message?"

"Albus!" Dorea instantly protested, running over to her son and placing her arms around him protectively. "I think that's enough! He's just a boy!"

"I think," Dumbledore disagreed sadly, stroking his beard. "That he has the right to know."

"Was the message for me?" James asked timidly, trying to pry his mother's arms off of him. Sighing, she let go, but she glared at the Headmaster and gave him a look that clearly said: _No more_.

The silence in the room was all the confirmation James needed. Dorea was shaking, forcing herself not to give into sobs. David was gripping Frank's shoulder tightly, as a few silent tears fell down both of their cheeks. Even though Frank's mother was okay, most of the servants were _not_, and James knew that some of the Longbottoms' servants were as good as family. He felt his stomach drop, and this throat go dry.

The message was for him. That meant all of this was _because _of him. It was his fault.

"What…. what did the message say?" James asked, finding his voice. He couldn't bear to look at his family members as he spoke; instead, he focused on Professor Dumbledore.

The Headmaster looked at Dorea, who furtively shook her head.

"No," David disagreed, his voice scratchy. "We've told him this much already. He needs to know the rest."

"_David_," Dorea argued with her brother, speaking up sharply. "He is only _eleven _years old. I said no."

"Voldemort," David continued, completely ignoring his sister. Dorea started sobbing, and James looked up quickly. "Wants us to give you to him by the time you turn fifteen. If not…"

"Then there will be another massacre," James filled in the blank, paling. "More people will die because of me, but next time it will be even worse. Like… at the castle. Or here, at Hogwarts."

"Right," David nodded, sighing. He looked weary and aged, much older than fifty. "But none of that is going to happen. You're not going to Voldemort, and we'll take every measure we can to ensure that Voldemort won't get away with another bloodbath."

Somehow, James doubted that it was possible to keep Voldemort from killing anyone else. It's not like they could put maximum protection on _every single _wizarding residence, restaurant, and shop. But he nodded, accepting his uncle's words. For now.

After all, he had four years to prepare for what he knew he had to do.

**A/N: **I've never been so nervous about posting a chapter! I know this one probably wasn't as "fun" as the others, but it includes a lot of important information. Because of how short this chapter is, I already have most of the next chapter done-if that's any consolation-and there will be more Marauder-interaction in that one. I'll post in a few days, if anyone is interested. :) OH, and from this point onward, we're going to be covering a lot of time... just fair warning.

Also, the drabble offer is still open! Check out my profile for details. :D And if you've requested drabbles, they shouldn't be much longer... thought you guys would prefer an actual update, though!


	6. Longbottom Manor

**Chapter 6**

When James returned to his dormitory later the next night, the lights were turned off and the three other boys had the scarlet curtains drawn around their beds. Someone was snoring—Remus, probably. Sighing, he kicked the trunk at the foot of his bed, wincing at the sharp pain it caused his toe. Okay, so kicking hard, heavy items wasn't a good idea.

He wondered, not for the first time, why he couldn't be like everyone else. Frank was always telling James how lucky he was, how everyone else would die to be born to such privilege. (James didn't think that made sense. First of all, how could you die to be born? And secondly, Frank wasn't exactly the most normal person in the wizarding world either. Regardless, he understood the point that his cousin was trying to make.) However, James' "privileges" so far had consisted of losing his father at the age of eight, gaining an overprotective mother, making three brilliant friends that he had to lie to, and finding out that Voldemort would Avada Kedavra half of the wizarding population if he didn't hand himself over by the time he entered his fifth year.

So, he could die a painful and bloody death at the age of fifteen, or he could be responsible for more lost lives.

It was his dad's fault. His dad…

Breathing deeply, he fell to his knees and started digging through his trunk. He impatiently pitched his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook across the room; it landed next to Sirius' bed with a bang. Extra robes, shirts, vests, ties, and pants sailed across the room, landing in scattered piles around the dormitory. The rest of his textbooks were soon thrown against one of the walls; his quills followed shortly thereafter, and his ink soaked a portion of the expensive carpet. Silent tears were running down his cheeks as he tore at the rest of the belongings… searching, wanting, longing…

And then there it was. An infamous token passed down from ruler to ruler for generations, starting with Godric Gryffindor himself. A family heirloom given to James by his father right before he closed his eyes for the last time. The medallion was said to be crafted by Salazar Slytherin himself and gifted to Gryffindor when the two of them were still close friends. Once, legend had it, Slytherin and Gryffindor had even considered themselves _brothers_. The medallion served as a cruel reminder of lost friendships, and freedom, and good versus evil. The sacrifice of doing what was right. The medallion's bittersweet reminder to each new ruler was clear: _Put your country first, your friends second, and yourself last. Putting good over evil may come with many unwelcome sacrifices, but in the end you will triumph._

He reached for it slowly, slipping the golden chain over his knuckles and clinging to the medallion desperately. He closed his eyes tightly as if praying, letting all his tears escape as his chest heaved up and down with his deep breaths, trying to prevent the sobs.

_Dad_, he thought. _Help me. No one else understands what it's like._

There was no answer. James would have been silly to expect one, but it was still a cruel reminder that there wouldn't ever be an answer from his father. Opening his eyes, James threw Gryffindor's medallion against the headboard of his four-poster bed with as much force as he could muster. He wanted the medallion to shatter into a million tiny pieces… he wanted it to disappear, along with all the responsibility it symbolized. It hit the headboard with a soft _cling_ and gently landed on James' pillow.

Somehow, the action made James feel a little calmer. He never noticed his new, dark-haired friend peering around the curtains and staring at him concernedly.

"James," Sirius whispered. Somehow, Remus and Peter hadn't woken up when James started pitching all his belongings around the room.

James jumped, staring at Sirius like a deer caught in headlights. He got so carried away, that he hadn't even thought about his friends waking up. How _stupid_.

"Are you alright, mate?" Sirius frowned, sliding off his bed easily and walking toward James. He was giving James a look which seemed to suggest that he thought his friend had gone absolutely mental, and James couldn't blame him. He looked at Sirius guiltily.

"I… yeah, I'm fine," he lied. James flopped down on his bed, burying his face in his pillow. His eyes stung. He forced himself not to blink. _Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

"Bullshit," Sirius replied levelly, rolling his eyes. No one just decided to pitch all his belongings all over the room in the middle of the night because he was_ fine_. "And I'm Merlin—"

_And I'm the king of England_, James thought about shooting back. But with his luck, something would click in Sirius' mind, and he'd believe him. Although, would that really be a bad thing?

"If something is wrong, you can tell me."

After several moments of awkward silence passed, Sirius sat down on his own bed and tried a new tactic. "My dad," he said, staring at the ground dejectedly. "Likes to practice the Cruciatus on me. He says…"

He trailed off, sounding for a second as if he was going cry. Then he laughed bitterly. "That Black men have to be tough. We know what real torture is, and we learn to embrace it. Thrive on it. But mostly, we learn our place. And we learn what happens to people who dare to tarnish the family name."

"You mean…"

"I'm not going to judge you," Sirius told James. "Whatever happened, it can't be… it can't be your fault. Is it about your dad?"

James slowly sat up, speechless. "… my dad?" he asked shakily.

If Sirius could tell that James had been crying, he didn't say anything. "You said he died," Sirius reminded James, coming to sit on the bed next to him. "So… is that what's bothering you?"

James wanted to tell Sirius everything. He wanted his first friend to be able to trust him completely. But, real life wasn't that simple. He closed his eyes and swallowed, hoping that one day Sirius would be able to forgive him.

"Yeah," James said softly. "That's it."

It wasn't a total lie.

* * *

Maybe it was because he understood that what James _really_ needed was a distraction, or maybe it was because they had only known each other for a few days, but Sirius respected that James didn't want to talk about his father. Instead, Sirius had grinned and led him down to the common room. They collapsed on the plush couches in front of the fireplace for hours, and Sirius started talking a mile a minute about pranking, the ridiculous essay they had to write Potions, and pretty much anything and everything else that wasn't personal. Eventually, James was able to loosen up a bit, too.

James hadn't done much pranking (his mother thought such things were nonsense), but Sirius definitely had. He liked to slip dungbombs in his little brother's room, and once he'd even stolen his father's wand and bewitched his mother's mirror. For a week, the mirror had insulted her every time it saw her and called her nasty names.

"I've always had a fondness for mirrors, you know," Sirius had said with a roguish grin as James laughed at his story.

"Did your parents ever find out that you were the one who cursed the mirror?" James had asked curiously.

A stormy look had crossed Sirius' face as he replied. "Yeah. Yeah, they did. So, I'm thinking that maybe tomorrow night, we can sneak out and try to get into the Slytherin common room. My cousin Narcissa is in Slytherin, and she'd freak if I cursed her mirror. Then I still have all those dungbombs I told you about..."

James hadn't asked how Sirius' parents punished him. But from the look on Sirius' face, and the abrupt way he'd changed the subject, James knew it had been bad. Still, Sirius respected_ his_ privacy. It was only fair that he did the same.

Yet despite the secrets that both of them were carefully guarding, both boys trusted each other fully from that moment onward. It felt like they'd been best friends for years.

And for the first time in a long time, James was able to feel like he was just another eleven-year-old kid.

* * *

James and Sirius finally returned to their dormitories around five in the morning. Sirius threw a pillow at James as he collapsed on his bed with a yawn, and James rolled his eyes.

"That wasn't very wise," he informed Sirius levelly.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth rose in mirth. "Oh, yeah?"

"You're entirely unaware of who you're messing with," James continued, managing to keep a completely indifferent expression on his face.

Sirius snorted and rolled over on his stomach, kicking his feet back and forth in the air. "Ooh, I'm scared."

"As you should be," James replied seriously. Then he looked Sirius straight in the eyes, and allowed the smallest hint of a smile to be seen on his face. "You must have forgotten..." he trailed off dangerously, lifting the pillow with a flourish. "I'm a _Chaser_."

He launched the pillow at Sirius, hitting him on the side of his head.

"What are you going to do?" Sirius laughed, immediately sitting up and practically swinging off his bed. He was now holding the pillow, slowly walking toward James. James quickly back-stepped and removed his own pillow from his bed. "Beat me up with pillows? Ha."

Then the boys attacked each other with the pillows, laughing loudly, before abandoning the pillows completely and fighting Muggle-style. Somehow, they ended up next to one of the other beds and Sirius gave James a particularly strong shove forward.

"Mmmf!" Remus protested, arms flailing as James landed on top of him. "You two—crazy… five in the morning…" he gasped, roughly knocking James off of him.

James, caught off-guard by Remus' strength (seriously, Remus didn't look like he could be _that_ strong), fell to the ground with a loud_ thud_. Sirius' eyes lit up in amusement as James grabbed onto Remus' bed and pulled himself upright.

"Sorry," Remus apologized blearily, rubbing at his temples as he sat up in bed. "I didn't—"

"Merlin, Remus," James cut in, staring at his friend bemusedly. "How did you get so strong?"

"What are you, a girl?" Sirius snickered, although he was looking at Remus curiously.

"No, I'm being _serious_. Hit him, Remus."

"… what?"

"Nice best mate you are," Sirius told James, shoving his shoulder. They both grinned, and James shoved Sirius back.

Remus stared at them with wide eyes. He had this odd expression on his face that James couldn't quite figure out, and then—

"So, are you going to hit me or not?" Sirius asked Remus, tapping his foot impatiently. "Hurry up, make up your mind. I'm hungry."

"… completely mental, those two," Remus muttered under his breath.

That's how Professor McGonagall found them when she opened the door to their dormitory, with an oddly soft expression on her face. "Mr. Lupin," she began, before any of the boys had time to properly react to their Head of House randomly appearing in their dormitory. "Get dressed and meet me in my office. Quickly. Mr. Longbottom will escort you."

"Yes, professor," Remus replied, confused. He started digging through his trunk, hastily producing his Hogwarts robes.

Sirius snickered and winked at James. "Ooh, Remus is in trouble…"

Professor McGonagall, who had started to exit the room, whirled around and fixed Sirius with a sharp look. "Mr. Black," she said sternly, glaring at him with angry eyes. "That will be _enough_. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"Merlin, I didn't even—"

"Twenty_-five_ points."

"That's not even—"

As Sirius ribbed Remus, and then argued with McGonagall, James grew cold with realization. _Frank_ was escorting Remus to McGonagall's office. _Longbottom Manor_ had been attacked last night. On the train, Remus had told James and Sirius that his mother was a gardner for the Longbottoms…

James elbowed Sirius in the side roughly. "Shut _up_," he ordered him, not really caring who he was interrupting. He felt like he was going to be sick. He had an idea as to what Remus' meeting could be about, but Remus was going to be completely caught off-guard. He only hoped Remus' mother was alive. "Leave Remus alone."

Much to James' astonishment, Sirius did shut up. "Fine, be a party pooper," he shrugged as McGonagall glanced at James. James avoided her gaze.

"Mr. Longbottom," she addressed Remus gently, opening the door and preparing to leave. "Is waiting for you in the common room."

* * *

"Longbottom," Sirius mused as he, James, and Peter (whom they had finally managed to wake up, after dropping missiles of water balloons on him) made their way down to the Great Hall. "What business does Remus have with _Frank Longbottom_?"

"His mother works as a gardner at their estate," James reminded Sirius, surprised by how calm his voice sounded. _Poor Remus…_

"Oh, yeah," Peter quickly jumped on board.

"So? The Longbottoms have hundreds—maybe thousands—of people working for them. That doesn't mean a bloody thing," Sirius countered.

_If only you knew_, James thought sadly.

"True," Peter piped up, now instantly siding with Sirius. Sirius, breaking away from the subject for a moment, snorted and rolled his eyes at James as if to say: _How did we get stuck with** him**?_

James shrugged. Peter remained oblivious.

As they arrived in the Great Hall, they were greeted by the delicious aromas of blueberry and strawberry muffins, pancakes, syrup, and bacon. The Hogwarts food was so good and plentiful that it was almost like eating a meal at Gryffindor Castle—only with much better company.

Well, except for the Slytherins.

"Hello, cousin," a sixth or seventh year girl greeted Sirius coldly, gracefully approaching him. She had long, light blonde hair that was pinned back with a simple (but obviously very expensive) barrette and she wore Slytherin robes.

"Narcissa," Sirius spat. The curious expression that had been on his face when he talked about Remus was now replaced by a look of pure loathing.

"I see," she began, rudely gesturing to James and Peter, "that you've been busy befriending_ commoners_. Your father will not approve of this."

James had never bragged about his status to anyone—not to any of the servants, or Frank, or anyone else. But as he stood there, listening to Narcissa berate Sirius for hanging out with _commoners_, he really had to resist retorting with something snappy. It's not that he had anything against commoners, or was insulted because Narcissa had assumed he was one; it was just the fact that the expression on her face would be priceless. Sirius' family obviously thought they were better than everyone else, and that really irked James.

"Aren't _we_ commoners?" Sirius pointed out, annoyed. If he'd had more than a day of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, he probably would have cursed her. As It was, he looked like he was considering tackling her Muggle-style.

His gray eyes pierced her blue ones. Narcissa was seething. "You should know," she informed Sirius haughtily, "that the Black do not need an official title to be royalty. We are—"

"Good-for-nothing gits?"

"—one of the _oldest_—"

"Smelliest."

"—infamous—"

"Cruelest."

"-influential-"

"Prejudiced."

"-revered-"

"Pathetic. Arrogant. Sleazy."

"… families in the wizarding world! _Everyone_ knows who we are. People look up to _us_. You are ruining everything."

"Actually," Sirius replied, suddenly cheerful as he realized most of the students in the Great Hall were watching them. Oh, how he loved making his family look like a bunch of loons. "Our fathers did that, when they tortured and killed innocent Muggles and were banished from the court. Or maybe you forgot?"

_I'm glad Dad banished them,_ James contemplated, gazing at Narcissa in disgust.

"You," Narcissa hissed at her cousin, "will pay for this. Mark my words."

She spun around over-dramatically, her elegant robes swirling around her, and stalked off. Sirius rolled his eyes and waved her off.

"Yeah, yeah," he added pleasantly, "have a nice day!"

They could hear Narcissa's scowl, and see all the dirty looks that most of the other Slytherins were now sending their way, but Narcissa did not turn around. Sirius grinned smugly at his victory and led James and Remus to a place near the end of the Gryffindor table.

"So," Sirius said bitterly, piling his plate with pancakes. "You've met my cousin."

"Lovely relatives," James remarked sarcastically. He craned his neck to get a better view of the entrance to the Great Hall, nervously waiting to see if Remus would join them. If Remus came down for breakfast afterwards, James decided, his mum was probably fine. If not…

"Hey, look!" Peter broke in, pointing upwards excitedly. "The mail's here!"

Indeed, hundreds of owls had just started circling the Great Hall, searching for their recipients. One by one, it seemed, students at the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables gasped as they received their letters and packages; their previously happy, carefree expressions were replaced by horrified, pale ones. As the students got over the shock, silent tears began to run down some of their faces. Many of the older Slytherins were smirking in satisfaction.

James' stomach dropped. He was willing to bet his father's old broomstick that he knew exactly what this was about. As Peter received his copy of _The Daily Prophet_, James' suspicions were confirmed:

**LONGBOTTOM MANOR ATTACKED**

by Persephone Hopkirk

_Gryffindor Castle has confirmed that Longbottom Manor, current residence of Protector of the Crown David Longbottom, and childhood home of Queen Mother Dorea, was attacked by supporters of He Who Must Not Be Named yesterday evening. Lord and Lady Longbottom were both unharmed, as was Frank Longbottom (now a fifth year at Hogwarts). Many others, however, were not quite as lucky. At last count 40 people were seriously injured and 84 were dead. Around 30 members of the Longbottom staff and 15 Aurors remain unaccounted for. The death toll is expected to rise as the search and rescue mission continues._

_Gryffindor Castle has not yet confirmed if You Know Who himself was present at the attack yesterday. More details to follow._

"Blimey," Sirius whispered hoarsely. Both James and Sirius had been reading the headline over Peter's shoulder.

"Yeah," James added unhelpfully, his voice quiet.

Longbottom Manor had, for so many years, been a symbol of hope when You Know Who first began his rise to power about ten years ago. For so long the Light side had been triumphing over the evil, almost always winning the battles against Lord Voldemort and his followers, but now the Dark had claimed their biggest victory. Not only did Voldemort prove that he was powerful enough to break through the intricate wards and powerful Aurors guarding the home of one of the most prominent, Light families in the world, but he also sent a very clear message: _No one is safe. No one on the opposing side is to be spared._

There was no doubt that Voldemort had ordered his Death Eaters to kill or capture any of the Longbottoms that they could. It was a happy coincidence that David and his wife were not home at the time, and Frank was of course at Hogwarts.

"That's why Remus is with Frank," Peter finally pointed out sadly.

James stared at his plate dejectedly. Even though he'd learned about the attack last night, being around all of these upset students made it really _hit_ him. Longbottom Manor really was gone and along with it, so were many good people. Shaking in anger, he shoved his plate away and snatched Peter's copy of _The Daily Prophet_, rereading it again.

Like James, Sirius' expression was angry. His eyes were hard and determined as he glared at his family at the Slytherin table. "I swear," he promised no one in particular. "If I found out_ they_ had anything to do with this, I will kill them myself."

"Let it go, Sirius," James spoke up, although he too shot a glare at the Slytherins. He returned the newspaper to Peter and placed a hand on Sirius' arm, forcing him to look away from his family. "We can't go blowing up your family yet, mate. We'd just get killed, too, and they'd take satisfaction in that."

"I don't care. If they killed Remus' mum—"

"We'll get them back later," James promised. And he meant it. "Just wait. One day, there will be hell to pay."

Despite the situation, Sirius couldn't help but smile slightly. James didn't know why, but Sirius seemed to believe him completely. "I guess we wouldn't help Remus by getting ourselves killed, too. But they_ will_ die one day. And in the meantime, I have some itching powder upstairs…"

"And those dungbombs, still," James pointed out with a snort.

"How," a redheaded girl to Peter's left interjected pompously. "Can you be joking around after this? Don't you two have any idea who the Longbottoms—"

"We're not joking around!" Sirius glared at the annoying girl. "We're planning revenge. We can't do anything to stop what already happened, but we can—"

"Shh!" Peter hissed, elbowing Sirius.

He was gazing at the entrance to the Great Hall in some strange mixture of awe and sympathy. The entire Great Hall, even the Slytherins, were utterly silent as Frank Longbottom himself made his way to the Gryffindor table. Frank refused to meet anyone's eyes, both uncomfortable with all the attention (even if he should have been used to it by now) and saddened. He kept his gaze on the floor until he reached his regular place at the table, sitting down next to Alice. She smiled at him comfortingly and he wearily returned it, before beginning to idly poke at his food.

"Aww," Lucius Malfoy sneered, breaking the Slytherin's silence. "Longbottom looks like a lost puppy. How _pathetic_."

At once, Frank was on his feet, glaring daggers at Malfoy. "You," he spat in a tone James had never heard his cousin use before. "Should mind who you're speaking to."

Lucius snorted. Confrontation had never been one of Frank's strong points. "As I recall," he said with a too-pleasant smile. "The Malfoys are actually ranked higher than the Longbottoms. Maybe _you_ should—"

"Were," Frank interjected. "The Malfoys _were_ ranked higher than the Longbottoms. But do you really think I was talking about _that_? I don't understand how you—"

"My father should have gotten the job," Lucius interrupted Frank again, completely ignoring the other boy's comments. "With King Charlus' only son only eight years old at the time, and no other close relatives, _my_ father was next."

"So that's what this is all about," Frank glared. "You and your Death Eater friends attacked our family home because you were hoping to eliminate everyone in the way of your father's crown. Well, the crown doesn't work like that, you idiot. Protector of the Crown doesn't go to the next-highest ranking member of nobility. It goes to someone that is_ close_ to the future king and capable of doing the job._ Your_ father, I'm afraid, is neither."

"You—"

"_Enough._"

Everyone turned to watch as the Headmaster and the rest of the professors entered the Great Hall together, followed by a handful of children. With a sickening feeling in his stomach, James glanced around the room at all the empty seats at the house tables (mainly Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff) and realized that Remus probably wasn't the only one who had a parent working for the Longbottoms. The professors were probably late for breakfast because they had been talking to all of the students.

"A great tragedy has befallen our world today," Professor Dumbledore began sadly as Frank and Lucius, still glaring at each other, took their seats. "Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters have murdered many innocent people to try to get us to give up, but we will not. As long as you are at Hogwarts, you are safe. In the meantime, remember those people who lost their lives fighting him. Remember peace and love and goodness. When the time comes, do not ever give up. Always know that no matter how dark a situation seems, there is_ always_ a light at the end."

James had a feeling that the Slytherins' parents wouldn't approve of Dumbledore's speech, but the rest of the school clapped respectfully, grim but determined expressions on their faces. Perhaps James would have cheered for Dumbledore, too, if a horrible realization hadn't just hit him.

Remus was not among the many students who had come to the Great Hall with Dumbledore.

* * *

**AN: **SO, I've had a massive headache for the past few days and I'm not sure if this is as good as it possibly could be. But, after much contemplation, I finally decided to just finish and post it. Next chapter should be up within the week! Do leave a review. (Also: Lily and Snape should be in the next chapter a lot. They were supposed to be in this one, but it got a bit long...)


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